Mentalism
by Queenspuppet
Summary: How can the god responsible for the destruction of NYC be trusted to help save Earth? Because a woman just sprung from prison - incarcerated for the death of her parents - says he must be. Loki/OC
1. A Quick Change of Allegiance

**AN: Several warnings. Firstly, this is an idea that's been bubbling in my head for months but the words for it to start really only found me last night. I can't be sure that there will be much more, if any, although in my happiest fantasies I finish everything I've ever thought of. Secondly, there is mention of rape and abuse (although no content of it) in this chapter. It's not going to be a theme of this story but it is in here and I wouldn't want anyone disturbed unnecessarily.**

**This is AU and takes place before the very end of The Avengers. All events after the attack on NYC are victim to my whims.**

Loki Laufeyson - or was it Odinson, had he decided yet? - was in shackles, his lips gagged and a bitter metal taste trapped in his mouth. He was surrounded by enemies, and Thor who might have been something worse. It was not, he decided, the finale he had hoped for. Although it was certainly better than the one he'd been goaded towards. He considered congratulating Earth's heroes on being more difficult to defeat than expected - he thought they'd need his own help - but then remembered, he could not.

The silence in SHIELDs meeting room was a weight, physically sinking him deeper into his seat - or was that the guilt he now carried for the hundreds of lives brought to ruin by his command? The Avengers, every oafishly brave one of them, sat at the table glaring at him, clearly thinking decidedly unheroic thoughts. Loki could meet every one of their gazes, and did, although he may have skirted by the doctor faster than the others. His greatest punishment for failure, was not coming from Thanos as promised, but by being stuck in a room with this company of star-lucky dunces.

The glass doors slid open. Thor and the defrosted soldier stood as two uniformed agents escorted in a young woman. Loki sat up, the burden of quiet broken by this new addition.

There were several noteworthy things about her. The expertly tailored dress cut from lush and expensive fabric and the way it hung too loose on her sharp-boned shoulders. The delicate entrance into the room, the steps and stature of aristocracy. The vacant, disinterested expression on her face, eyes gazing out the opposite window as the rest of the occupants studied her keenly. She sat, ankles crossing, back straight. Gods, she reminded him of Mother - no, Frigga.

"We are here, taking this opportunity to assess the risk of Loki Odinson, citizen of Asgard," Fury began in a lecturing monotone, the voice of a bureaucratic official rather than his usual cross between over-lord and rebel.

Loki ignored him, preferring to watch the woman whose gaze was still blank, lighting on the faces in the room but clearly not listening. It was more than pretending to not listen, it was genuine not hearing, and not caring to hear. No single thing in the room caught her attention, seemed worthy of study. As if she honestly neither knew nor cared why she had been brought in.

Who was she?

She met his eyes, the focus so sudden and so sharp it jolted him in his chair. And suddenly, he knew her, every inch of her.

The canopy bed. Country summer's entrance through an open window. The gray cat that thrummed under her small child's hands. The remarkably empty space where sound should have been. The beautiful pair, man and woman, who watched her with frowns, whose hands would not take hers. The gilded home she found herself lost in, unable to hear her name called and not knowing to cry out for help. The doctors. God, the incredible number of doctors, of strangers hands against her skin, turning her about one way and then the other, pricking her with needles.

The surgeries. The sudden, painful, entrance of sound. Layers of it, the sounds from outside of her head and those from within.

More doctors. Psychiatrists. Speech Therapists. The lessons in decorum and comportment alongside the clinical studies. The word Mutant. Her mother's shame. Her father's frozen hunger, the secret he kept buried that she knew of but didn't understand. He had not wanted a daughter for just this reason.

The rhythmic nighttime tortures of his visits.

The slow shredding of her sense of self. Of what was right. Of what she was meant for.

The mundanity of new doctors, new treatments, new lessons as if she might one day be capable of becoming the symbol of two peoples success that she was intended to be. The slow understanding that she was proof of their imperfections.

Their sudden deaths.

Her following incarceration.

Released early to serve new masters, she had refused the hearing device offered to her in the town car that had brought her to SHIELD. She had learned, freed from her parents, exactly what she was capable of, and that hearing was a hinderance not a help in learning what others wanted from her.

She was not innocent.

But she was not a monster, not like him.

Too late he understood her presence at the table. She had already retrieved all his secrets from his mind, distracting him with her own. He was stripped as bare as she. And somehow he could not fully care. She was…interesting. A fascinating challenge. She could not hear his silver tongue, caged or not, and he didn't believe that he could force his thoughts to lie, not in any way she would not see through. He wondered how they trusted her. Most likely Fury did not.

She raised one hand gracefully, just a few fingers really, and silence fell so completely he might have believed that she had deafened him as thoroughly as herself. She pulled her gaze from him and it was as if they had physically broken an embrace. He was the only one who didn't jump as a foreign voice lilted in his thoughts, it was soft and gently seductive, like a hand cupped in a caress.

_Your prisoner is guilty of acting on behalf of Thanos-_

Thor stiffened and glanced at Loki who remained watching the woman.

_-After extreme psychological and physical torture. He considers himself a capable threat to Earth and humanity, but lacks real interest in the conquering." The words were more his than hers, he suspected. What he had gathered from her memories were images, not language, and it was as if she was piece-mealing his own stray thoughts as explanation. There is no regret for his actions, nor is there disappointment at his failure. If you kill him, Earth will be held accountable by Asgard. If you send him back we will be defenseless when Thanos comes. Thanos is coming. He is certain that he is the best defense. He knows the Titan's plans and what few weaknesses exist._

The heroes broke into arguments and a great deal of colorful curses regarding Loki's usefulness to a planet he had so recently threatened. Fair enough, he supposed. Only he and Fury remained watching the woman whose focus had fallen away and who now seemed to absently be waiting to be retrieved and released. Loki wondered how long it hand been since she had made a choice regarding her own movements, if she ever had.

_What is your name?_ Loki thought, imagining he could press the thought to the woman.

She shifted and her eyes landed slightly over his shoulder.

_Carolyn Booth. _

_And do you know the secrets of everyone in the room?_ He wondered.

_The interesting ones._

Oh, he liked her.

Her eyes shifted to Fury, who must also have been silently communicating with her. He, Loki had to admit, was not as stupid as the others. He watched, barely following the general thread of the room's out loud conversation which seemed to be leaning towards taking their chances alone and sending Loki back to Asgard. Fury, by his tense expression, was quizzing the woman. He paled, a shocking sight, and sat back in his chair, looking breathless. Whose torture had she shared, Loki wondered, her own or his? Or had she stolen the history of the most secretive person in the room?

"Miss Booth, as you may have noticed, is what she refers to as a Mentalist," Fury said, his voice tight, but able to cut through the useless chatter.

"Understatement," Stark snapped quietly, looking wary of the woman.

"She will be working for SHIELD, serving as the first alert system to the threat of Loki Odinson, who will remain as a heavily guarded asset providing he cooperates fully with our expectations and needs."

"Are you shitting me right now, Fury?" Barton snarled.

"Loki will remain in those protective shackles on a probationary period," Fury continued with a sharp glare at his archer. "The gag will be removed as Miss Booth says that there are concepts he understands that she simply isn't… _other_ enough to translate for us. She assures me of his participation."

She did, did she?

"And we're just supposed to trust her?" Romanov asked with a coquettish head tilt.

"You'll trust her because I trust her," Fury said, which threw the two veteran SHIELD agents back in their chairs.

"Not good, enough," Stark said, rising from his chair, before losing his balance and glaring uncomfortably at Carolyn Booth. His eyes bulged and he began to pant while she stared impassively out the window.

Oh gods, what he wouldn't give to be able to shut up men like these with as little effort as it took this small, fragile woman.

Stark sank back into his seat, green and swallowing convulsively. After a moment of quiet, he turned and glared at Loki. "Welcome to the team, Rudolph."


	2. We All Have Options

He had to remind himself daily that this was preferable to imprisonment on Asgard or, more likely, death. He had to remind himself more than daily. He had to remind himself when he awoke, chained to a cot in a cell that pretended to be a bedroom. A bedroom without a window. He had to remind himself as he was escorted through the halls, jeers and glares and threats from SHIELD employees following in his wake. He had to remind himself as he ate dry cafeteria food. He had to remind himself as he recited every menial detail of his arrangement with Thanos, every torturous detail, every traumatic detail, knowing all the while that Thor was watching on the other side of that flimsy excuse for a mirror.

Carolyn Booth was not the entertainment she had promised to be. She was a shadow. Trailing too far behind him to study, or too far ahead. Her gentle examination of his thoughts became an irritant, rather than a pleasure. There was no longer any give and take between them, just her silent listening, watching. He was a bug to her. It was humiliating. It was humbling.

He had not even been allowed the pleasure of riling the Avengers to violence against him. And when he gave up hope of being of any real use, of having any real purpose, and attempted to impart _useful_ information he was immediately redirected back to the finite details. While it was true that Earth had time, an early offering of his, he was agitated by the cold automatic questions. He led them no closer to a solution to the Mad King's coming onslaught.

He found himself impatient. He tried to be, he was generally the patient one, not only in comparison to Thor. Asgardians were surely more patient than Midgardians, so much less pressed for time in their lifespans, and yet Director Fury seemed in no great rush _now_ to see to the safety of the planet. When Loki had a handful of Germans bent to the ground in a power display? Sure. But with the threat of every living creature on the planet? No rush.

He couldn't say, all in all, it was a less warm welcome than he expected. He always expected the worst. But it was dull.

It caught him off guard to be escorted back to the meeting room. And it was a strange kind of delight he felt to see the Avengers assembled. And Carolyn Booth, dressed in what ought to have been the anonymous black of a SHIELD agent, but which failed with the details of the fabric. She had kept her family fortune, Loki noted, and seemed unashamed of using it. Thor stepped forward and Loki cringed, prepared for the worst - an embrace, a show of support? But Thor only gravely lifted Loki's chains and proceeded to unlock them. Loki frowned and studied the hard expressions in the room.

"Congratulations Pinnocchio," Stark said, glaring at him. "A whole month without a single lie. I'm surprised you even have a nose left."

The soldier snorted at the far end of the room, and then cleared his throat with a small shrug. "I actually got that one," he murmured.

"Your probationary period is at an end," Fury announced flatly as Loki sank into a chair. "You will be transferred to Avengers Tower and we will begin our work together."

Loki's eyes narrowed. How petty. A month of tedious, useless, regurgitation of facts to decide wether or not to allow him to lead them to salvation against an insurmountable enemy? How could it possibly be worth it?

_I thought so too._

He didn't stiffen, or jump at her intrusion. If anything, he relaxed. Then he told his first lie in a month, and he told it well.

"I am grateful for your trust."

It was a small lie. He was not grateful for their trust. He was grateful to be out of chains, yes. To be moved out of SHIELD headquarters, to be included in actual planning, in action. He was even, shockingly, grateful for Carolyn's reentrance into his thoughts. And he noted, by the lack of change in the Avenger's expressions that she did not give away this fib of his.

Fury began to recite the logistics and conditions of his release. More tedium. Obvious restrictions. Reminders that they did not trust him. That he would be checked, double-checked, and triple-checked for any hidden motives.

What did they offer you? He asked. What do they have for you here that made it worth your loyalty?

_The choice_, she answered.

For a brief moment, his worst thoughts resurfaced. She was better than any mind controlled minion he had borrowed in his half-hearted attempt at taking over the planet. She would not need to be manipulated, only allowed to consider her options. If she kept his lies hidden then he could do his worst work here, the simple twisting of facts to bring ruin. Then he could hand Earth to Thanos as a prize, and hope for mercy.

It was an option.

Carolyn was watching him but Fury and the others continued in their monotony, unaware.

No, he decided. Thanos would not kill him and it would be the worst kind of mercy. He would suffer exquisitely for eternity. If his assistance to the Avengers proved futile at least he had a better chance of dying simply, quickly. If Earth succeeded the idiots at this table would likely make a pet of him, enfold him into their ranks. And that left a world of possibilities.

"Will I have a window?" Loki asked, the picture of docility.

He did have a window. And a full bath. And a closet stuffed with quality, albeit Midgardian, clothing. He slept that night, briefly, and woke with legs sprawled and tangled in the sheets as he had at home. When he walked through the halls, it was alone, aside from the polite directions from the dry toned AI. He found breakfast in a small kitchen, obviously shared, but the bread and juice were fresh. He stood quietly, wondering how many eyes were on him remotely. Wondering what to do next. There were too many options, combinations of moments, to choose rashly.

_There's a library._

He turned in the room, but the mentalist was absent. He checked the hall. How far a distance did her control stretch?

"Where is the library?" Loki asked

"One story up, at the north end of the building," Jarvis answered. "Do you require an instruction of the elevator system?"

"I manage them quite well," Loki said, tone chilly.

He did, but he skipped the process in favor of manifesting himself in his best approximation of the direction. He narrowly missed a low table piled with large decorative tomes.

Carolyn Booth shifted - he couldn't quite call it a jump but he thought he might have surprised her - in a oversized leather armchair. She had a large book spread over her lap, her fingers carefully poised at the point of his interruption.

He was struck with information. The emergency alert had gone off in the night and the Avengers had taken off in a hellicarier. There were SHIELD Agents stationed around the tower but they had been ordered to stay out of the way unless Carolyn alerted them. Things were wrapping up wherever it was that his brother and the 'teammates' had flown off to, but there was no eminent arrival yet.

It was something like freedom, Loki thought. Again, his mind opened up with options. The agents would be nothing, a trifling bit of fun to eliminate them. But he supposed that the AI, designed by Stark, might prove a challenge in getting out of the building. And of course, there was what to do with the mind reader. He brushed the ideas away without giving them much consideration.

Carolyn was watching him but as his thoughts settled her eyes turned back to the book in her lap, her hand lifting to cover her throat.

What is it like for you? he wondered. He imagined his mind to be something like a maze that constantly rearranged itself, the old labyrinths in the base of the Scholar's House in Asgard.

_No, _she answered._ It's like…_

His thoughts filled with an image of a room, or if not a room, an enormous inverted prism of doorways. At every edge the doorways connected. They opened and closed, revealing glimpses of Loki's own quicksilver thinking. He thought, looking down at the small doorway beneath his feet, that he had fallen through his own trapdoors in the past, like the day he goaded Thor into confronting the Frost Giants by reverse manipulation.

_You are there_, Carolyn explained. _But I am here._

He was removed from the heart of the space and yet somehow still central, seeing all the doorways at once, able to track every new idea, every new option, as it presented itself and then was rejected.

_Your mind is so…_

He waited, expecting some sort of condemnation, some negative.

_Open._

When she released his mind he was at least grateful that his face was still impassive. That he was not gawking at her like an awed child. He was awed. He had been awed before, and more so than this, but not by a mortal. And not in quite some time.

He found himself staring at her.

There was something…strikingly plain about the young woman. All her features were appealing - full lips, wide eyes, straight nose, good bone structure with soft cheeks - and yet beautiful was not the word that came to mind. Composed, maybe, despite the absence of make up. No, her face was…old fashioned. A Mona Lisa instead of a Madame X.

Beautiful.

The thought rang out defiantly, as if he had been arguing with himself and with it came a dozen others that he hardly paid any mind.

But she stiffened in her chair, back rigid and shoulders hunching defensively.

His gut clenched as he realized where his mind had turned. He tried to banish the poisonous image of her arched naked on a nondescript mattress, his hands against her pale skin. When the effort made the image starker, clearer, and more animated instead of vanquished he strode quickly out of the room and several stories lower in the Tower.

Stupid, he thought. Although he wasn't sure if he was chastising himself for imagining, however briefly, bringing Carolyn Booth carnal pleasure - abused animal that she was - or for feeling so guilty over the innocent mistake.

That night, after high tensions at a round table meeting with the Avengers that seemed to amount to very little in Loki's opinion, he dreamt of Carolyn Booth.

He dreamt of her flesh rotting under his tongue.

He dreamt of her nails gouging red, gushing pathways into his skin.

He dreamt of her watery blue eyes in the faces of creatures that tore him limb from limb.

He dreamt of her mouth against his, stealing his breath until his chest caved in with a horrible collapsing crunch of his ribcage.

He dreamt of her a hundred thousand awful, chilling, morbid, nightmarish ways.

It was an incredible defense mechanism, he decided the next morning when the simple sight of her drinking orange juice from a glass made his stomach twist so violently that it took all his composure not to heave up his dinner in the hallways and run home to Asgard.

**AN: Leave a review if it strikes your fancy. I'm open to ideas on this one. **


	3. Cooperation is Key

Remind me again how these childish halfwits saved a city, Loki thought.

_Rash action in courageous directions_.

He would have been lying to himself if he'd pretended not to be relieved by Carolyn's renewed presence in his thoughts - she'd been absent since his carelessness in the library - and either way, she would have known.

The Rash and Courageous were littered around Stark's own tech decorated version of Fury's meeting room and every surface was on a frustrating set of wheels. Loki had settled on holding up a wall for the last twenty minutes as the Avengers bickered over the last small detail he was able to impart. It had been the same for the last four days. Loki could barely finish a sentence before Stark felt the need to dish out one of his infuriating references and some number of the others then attempted to subdue him, after which they all proceeded to argue and speculate over the half pieces of information they managed to gain before interruption.

The Hawkeye was in the ceiling, balanced along two parallel pipes and by all appearances asleep. The not-presently-green doctor seemed to be applying equations at random on a screen before him, although Loki suspected it was meant to keep him distracted from the irritating atmosphere of the room. Agent Romanoff stood in front of the chair occupied by Carolyn, and as Loki studied the pair he saw the way the agent seemed to be shielding the other woman from the rooms general attention. Romanoff shifted, blocking Loki's sightline and confirming his theory. Thor, frustratingly enough, was the most useful of the bunch, but Stark and the soldier argued over and around the prince without any respect. Loki sneered and resisted the urge to beg to be sent to justice on Asgard.

_You're all waisting time._

The room froze, and Romanoff stepped back to Carolyn's side. Her hands were folded in her lap and her eyes drifting along the floor, head leaning lazily to one side, and yet she held every gaze against her in a way that reminded him of Odin's ability to command respect and attention.

_While you certainly have the moral compass superior to Loki's _\- was that a note of humor? - _It will do you no good without the complete map. I suggest you summon enough patience to listen to _all_ the information before working towards your solution. You may find you have less to debate over._

Thor nodded. "Thank you, Lady Booth. I agree this would be preferable to the circular discussions we have engaged in for the better part of this week."

Steve Roger's cheeks pinked as he grimaced like a scolded child. Tony Stark glared at Carolyn with such heat that if not for Romanoff stepping back in her place as blockade Loki would have been tempted to do so himself.

"Fine," Stark said, with false lightness. "Take it away, Cain. You think you can figure one of these out?" He gestured in a toss and a ball of light volleyed itself to Loki who caught it with careful fingers.

If Stark thought that Loki had been dozing for the past four days and not studying his use of the holographic data screens, he was about to be very surprised.

"Your galaxy, please," Loki said, and JARVIS provided it in finite scale. He proceeded to give instructions in graphing the entire nine realms, and those that fell on the outskirts. Midgard grew smaller and smaller as Loki illustrated the scope of Thanos's battlefield. "Highlight these planets in blue." He touched nearly two dozen. "These are Thanos allies, either by choice or by fear. Now these planets in red." He touched an equal number as the first group. "These were civilizations that Thanos has now either repressed beyond saving, or destroyed outright. Finally, these in gold." There were barely more than a half dozen. "These are planets with a military force capable of interstellar warfare and an inclination against Thanos. I will now add Midgard although at present, your resources would be ineffectual. However, if you are the representatives of this planet in this conflict then we can at least say you are certainly _willing_ to go into battle."

The humans were paling, with the exception of Carolyn who had already learned this from Loki himself.

"Here is Asgard," Thor pointed out. "Odin would certainly stand in this fight, and our warriors are worthy."

"Do you like these odds, Thor?" Loki snarled, prepared for his brother's - no, not brother - usual hot-headed tripe.

But Thor only steadied his gaze against Loki, face solemn and still. "No, brother. Not for Earth, and not for home."

"You're telling us to step down," Barton said from above, suddenly upright in his perch and alert.

"You said he was coming regardless of whether or not we're prepared," Rogers started what would surely end in a patriotic speech.

_He's not finished._

The stir quieted and Rogers folded his arms over his chest petulantly as Barton swung down to the floor.

"You successfully contained a single, concentrated threat to a city," Loki said.

"It would have spread," Stark argued.

"Yes," Loki allowed quickly to avoid a fresh interruption. "You saved the earth." He clapped with false cheer. "But Captain, can you say honestly that the Chiaturi invasion was the best tactical attack that could have been launched against the earth from space? Is that what you and your army would have planned against an enemy? A _direct_ line of attack through one single entrance?"

"Are you making fun of yourself right now?" Stark asked. "You know, you led that attack, right?"

Loki leveled him a long stare.

"You fumbled it intentionally?" Rogers said.

"You destroyed a city," Barton said, "To prove that you were going easy on us?"

"He could have prismed the Tesseract," Banner said, pushing his glasses up from his nose and finally looking up from his screen. "He could have bounced the signal across high energy points around the entire world. It wouldn't have taken much more effort than what was necessary to open the portal in the first place."

Stark rushed over to read the math, paling and muzzling himself with his own hand. There were muffled curses.

"The Mad King is not impressed with my efforts at present, I'm sure," Loki said drily.

"You want to make sure Thanos never brings the battle to Earth." Romanoff said.

"I _suggest_," Loki stressed, "That if you want to leave your planet in tact, that you do your best to ensure he does not."

"You think we Avengers should rally on Asgard?" Thor asked.

Loki grimaced, "Can you imagine Odin being amenable to the suggestion? He would send them directly home. As competent as they have shown themselves, he views them as ants."

Thor frowned but did not argue.

"So what?" Barton said. "The six of us just hurtle off into space with our fingers crossed?"

"Six of you?" Loki said. "I was under the impression that Earth was currently suffering from a multitude of your kind with extraneous abilities."

"Do mutants…work in space?" Stark mused.

The group as a whole glanced towards Carolyn. Her head lifted in surprise and her eyebrow's raised and she met their eyes in a rare moment.

_It's not one of the experiments I was subjected to. _ Her answer was even and neutral in tone but it didn't stop Barton, Banner and Rogers from wincing.

"What would we even travel in? The Starship Enterprise hasn't been invented yet," Banner said.

"You build things, don't you Stark?" Loki asked, not really fighting his own smirk. "Other than ostentatious monuments of self?"

"You want me to build a rocket ship?" Stark asked, looking simultaneously speculative and thrilled. His eyes lit up. "Thor, your human girlfriend, she's into space, yeah? Can you call her? Or will she be salty about you leaving and not coming back, and then coming back and not calling? Do you have her digits?"

Thor blushed, which was a sight itself. "I do not…"

"That's fine," Stark shrugged. "I'll call Fury. Fury has everyone's digits."

"Might I suggest that before we reunite lovers, we discuss the matter of Infinity Gems?" Loki said.

It was petty, he knew. Loki had been working somewhat productively - in truth, it was a vast improvement - with the Avengers for the better part of week. Their trust was too easily won. Certainly, they sneered at him. When they remembered to. And Stark continued to be a font of trite nicknames and 'Daddy Issues' sarcasm, ironic given his own relationship with his father. Yet it was as if they did not even realize themselves how they now readily turned to him with questions, took their time in considering his information, his opinions. As if they now had to remind themselves to look down their righteous noses at him.

And in his own self-disgusted way he found them marginally less appalling.

But yes, it was a petty joy of his this morning to watch Captain America turn green over his breakfast.

Handsome Rogers had grown increasingly solicitous toward Carolyn in their time spent in the tower, which was of no particular interest to Loki. The starry-eyed boy stood as she entered the room with her eyes unfocused, smiled warmly at her as her gaze drifted past his face, his cheeks pinked when her voice brushed against his thoughts along with the others during discussions.

But today, all she had to do was pass the common kitchen doorway and the Captain turned a sickly gray, and dropped his spoon with a clatter into his bowl of processed grains.

Loki did not care one way or the other if Carolyn took an interest in morally upright glory seekers. But it amused him to see the Captain rebuffed. And it soothed his vanity somewhat.

**AN:** Oh nooooooo, this got away from me! Since I mostly want to work on character development I genuinely never meant for actually plot to enter this story. Whoooooops. I'm still flying (okay, not flying, inching in small doses) by the seat of my pants on this so please review with any thoughts.


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